A Step Shy
by Aubreys-Master
Summary: After QuiGon's death, ObiWan finds a dangerous way to 'release' his negative emotions. Anakin just wants to keep him alive. Slash. Suicidal behavior. Angst.
1. Remeniscant

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.  
Aubrey's crap: Weird little thing... Probably only about two parts, for this. I'll post the rest as I finish editing it.  
Warnings: Suicidal behavior, slash, underage, ect.

* * *

AStep Shy  
Part One  
Reminiscent 

"Commander Skywalker," Clone Commander 2224 (a.k.a., 'Cody') breaks through Anakin's reverie. "General Kenobi has requested your presence, Sir."

The Clone Wars are in full swing, and Anakin sighs tiredly. He nods wordlessly. He's sick of the Outer Rim sieges, and wishes they were done already. He also knows that wishing will get him nowhere.

He rises to his feet and exists his tent. Rain is pouring from the sky, transforming the trenches the Republican troops dug only days before into moats. Instantly, the torrent chills him to the bone. He ignores it and just sloshes his way through the puddles and mud alike. He knows that Obi-Wan wouldn't have asked for him, in weather such as this, without a damn good reason. Or he hopes he has a good reason.

Ducking as he approaches the entrance to Obi-Wan's tent, he slips through the flap, shaking the water from his hair as he sits down and slips out of his thermal cloak. He has a feeling he knows what Obi-Wan wants…

General Kenobi doesn't say anything to him, though he's clearly annoyed that Anakin has gotten him wet. The Jedi Master sits on his sleep mat, twirling a knife methodically between the fingers of one hand. Breathing out a low 'oh', Anakin continues to strip down out of his tunic. He knows for certain what his Master wants now.

Sure enough, as soon as Anakin's arms are exposed, Obi-Wan crawls forward. He takes the knife and presses the sharp of the blade to the already heavily scarred flesh of Anakin's completely natural arm. Wired muscles flex tensely as Master Kenobi delicately presses the blade until it draws a wire thin trail of blood. Anakin allows himself a sharp intake of breath, but he quickly uses the Force to twist his pain into pleasure. When he exhales the air again, it's with a contentedly gentle sigh.

He remembers when this all started…when his life got tossed upside down, into this somewhat bizarre ritual with his mentor. It was a good twelve…thirteen years before hand, on the day that Qui-Gon Jinn died…

Obi-Wan had started his dance with death by himself. In the months following Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan's forearms became an allegorical canvas of stab wounds and slash marks. He used everything. Knives, needles, even pieces of sharp scrap. It didn't matter. Anything would do, if it could pierce skin.

It was less than a year before Anakin caught him.

The ten-year-old boy looked absolutely heartbroken, when he saw his beloved Master lying on the floor, bleeding in excess. Obi-Wan knew he should try to say something, but what? What did you say, when a little boy who idolized you stumbled upon you cutting yourself?

He said nothing.

Anakin crossed the room without a word and knelt down before him. He'd taken Obi-Wan's arm into his own small hands, and looked at it for a moment, before looking up at Obi-Wan with wide eyes.

"Does it feel good?" He wondered, his voice as small as the rest of him, its volume suffering from his alarm. Obi-Wan shrugged, unsure of how to answer. What would get him off the hook, seemed to be an important element.

"Not really."

"Then why?"

"Because it's something I can do." It was the only excuse he had, and he realized this with a surge of unpleasantness. "Something on my own terms. Nothing's ever on my terms…"

Anakin watched him in silence for a long moment, before leaning down and kissing one of the bleeding cuts. When he looked back up, his lips were stained rosy from his Master's blood. Obi-Wan was reminded horribly of a hooker, her mouth smothered in lipstick. Then he remembered that it was Anakin, and the image fled.

"Does it feel good?" the child repeated, though this time Obi-Wan knew he was referring to the power of the act. Not stabbing his arm with a pocketknife.

"Yes." He answered with a sigh, this time.

"Show me."

The little boy sat back on his heels and pulled a sleeve up, extending his arm in offering. Obi-Wan stared at the out reached appendage stupidly, unsure if those words were to be considered an invitation, request, or an order. Did it really matter? Did _any_ of it really matter? He should ignore Anakin. He knew he should.

He didn't.

Reaching down to where he'd tossed it aside in a moment of panic, Obi-Wan picked the tool of his craft back up. (It was a small knife that he'd found in the street, on a mission with Qui-Gon. His Master had been in good spirits, over that particular journey's success, and had permitted him to keep it as a souvenir. That had been such a nice world…) He lifted the knife to the blonde's arm, and sunk the blade in.

Anakin jerked suddenly, when the knife cut into his skin. He soon calmed himself, though, and just waited for Obi-Wan to continue. His Master methodically carved a delicate design from Anakin's elbow, all the way to his wrist. That design would soon become marred with other cuts, when Anakin offered to become a permanent replacement for Obi-Wan's cutting habit. Obi-Wan would cut him instead. It was the best of both worlds, for some time.

The psychotic cycle of Obi-Wan's depression and Anakin's desire to please could not perpetuate itself forever. Obi-Wan was not a stupid man. He was entirely aware that he was hurting Anakin. Who was he kidding? He _liked_ hurting Anakin. He often put all of the blame for Qui-Gon's death on the child's shoulders. He knew the bitter resentment hurt Anakin as well. He thrived on the sadism until he couldn't any longer. Until he began to watch Anakin work on a form with pride, until Anakin's frustrated tears made Obi-Wan's frozen heart melt. Until he needed to give Anakin what _he_ needed…the feeling of failure…

Failure…like all the times that he wasn't good enough for Qui-Gon…and when he wasn't there when his Padawan needed him…

Like on the mission to Korriban.

Anakin watched helplessly, as his Mater battled with the madman, Granta Omega, son of Qui-Gon's fallen protégé Xanatos. As much as Obi-Wan felt that he was failing his Padawan, Anakin _knew_ that he was failing his Master. He was also failing his friends, but he didn't know how to alleviate his restraints. The harder he struggled with them, the more they seemed reluctant to release him. He'd never seen anything withstand both lightsabers and the Force as efficiently as this stuff did…

While Anakin struggled helplessly with his physical bonds, Obi-Wan battled another taunting reminder of Qui-Gon's past.

Kenobi won the battle. Skywalker watched helplessly as his friend, Darra Thel-Tanis, was shot. She was riddled to death by plasma bullets, her body jerked from the impact, while he remained restrained and shaking with an impotent and intolerable rage.

Darra died that day. Siri Tachi's Padawan, Ferus Olin, left the Order shortly thereafter. Tru Veld placed the blame for the loss of both Padawans squarely on Anakin's shoulder and never spoke to his friend again, after that. As much as Anakin would have loved to not admit it, he really had no choice but to agree…

That left the child… Well, he wasn't such a child anymore. He was officially a teenager, at the tender age of thirteen. But that didn't change the fact that he was left with no one. He noticed the difference almost immediately after reentering the Temple. People skirted around him because they could feel his anxiety. He didn't realize how badly he hid it. That just made the losses that much stronger.

So, he went to the only place he had left. He fled to his shared quarters with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wasn't there, but Anakin would wait. He was sure that after such a trying mission, Obi-Wan would want something from him… It was something Anakin no longer felt any hesitation over giving at all. After all, what had he to lose, if he died?

But now Obi-Wan was hesitating! Obi-Wan didn't hesitate! Anakin was prepared to beg, and Obi-Wan was prepared to refuse. He was ready to be stalwart and firm…until he saw how much Anakin wanted to be…needed. He wanted the sick symbiosis and the balance of power that they held over each other, and…Obi-Wan helped him. He sheltered his Padawan behind a veil of red.

Anakin leaned against him, cradling his bleeding arms together and breathing in his Master's distinct smell, content. Someone still needed him. He still had someone, and this someone _would not leave_. He'd make sure of that.

As time moved on their game continued. On default, Anakin would enter Obi-Wan's room every night, after the evening meal. (It was also an established, if unspoken, contract between them that he would come whenever his Master merely wanted him, as well.) Obi-Wan would carve a pretty little picture into his Padawan, and then lick the blood away until he was left with bright, swollen pink lines to commemorate his work.

Eventually, his kisses strayed to other places than just Anakin's arms.

The first time he slept with his Padawan, Anakin was fifteen. The boy looked upon him with steady eyes, his gaze never straying to the bloody artwork. Obi-Wan was always very careful, and Anakin trusted him implicitly. He looked upon Obi-Wan with calm, unquestioning eyes of a blue so deep and beautiful that they even made Siri Tachi's look dull, and Obi-Wan knew right then what he wanted.

He threw the knife aside, to Anakin's surprise, and shoved the boy onto his back. Minutes, preciously delirious minutes, later Anakin found himself on his Master's bed, both of them caught up completely in the fever of what they were doing. They stripped down and Anakin felt his Master's length inside of him for the first time. It was the first time, but not the last.

When all was said and done, and Anakin laid spooned to his Obi-Wan in post-coital bliss, all that the boy was sure of what this: this man was his life. This man was whom he loved, and he didn't care who knew it. He was pained to discover that Obi-Wan _did_ care who was privy to their secrets. The man explained his view in perfectly simple terms, but it didn't really make Anakin feel any better.

"This is you and I, Anakin. Not them. Should they know, they will destroy what we have, because _they_ do not understand." Obi-Wan pulled the boy in close to him. "They will _never_ understand how much we need this."

Anakin looked up at him carefully. Stupid Jedi rules…he wasn't good at hiding his feelings. Obi-Wan should know that!

"They can't." He decided finally. "They can't do anything. As you said, this is 'you and I', not 'them'. They can't do anything to stop it, now that the wheels are in motion."

Obi-Wan pressed a far-too-rough kiss on him. "They will try, and I find keeping these things from the Council rather rewarding, considering how smug they are. It isn't forever, Ani. When they find out, imagine the looks on their faces."

Anakin watched him silently again, for a long moment, before nodding. After all…what else could he do? This was Obi-Wan's will, and Anakin's purpose was to please his Master.

As Anakin aged, their intimacy only became more and more twisted. Obi-Wan wanted to use his power and all that Anakin wanted was to be used. The rest of the world became an irritation, an obstacle that insinuated itself between them every day. It only made their acts more desperate, more frequent, and more brutal. Even though Obi-Wan never did anything out of malice to Anakin.

Obi-Wan had said the rest of the world would never understand, and Anakin was quickly discovering he was right.

One day, lightsaber instructor Cin Drallig requested that Anakin help him train some of the younglings. It seemed like an amusing distraction for a while, but things rapidly went south.

Anakin had fallen into the habit of not bandaging his cuts, and they bled a bit more than necessary because of it. Suffice to say, Cin wasn't expecting the Chosen One to pass out from training a seven year old. The burst of emotion, from the startled younglings, brought on a lot of onlookers. They gave curious stares, as Cin carried an incapacitated Anakin to the Med Wing. He wasn't particularly worried. Anakin had seemed a bit unwell when he arrived, but Cin had expected the boy to handle it accordingly. Instead, he'd just let himself get tired, lazy, and irresponsible, but he would have to answer to his Master later, Cin was sure.

When they arrived, Mistress Erin came to them in a bustle of white robes, looking at Anakin in alarm. Once he was laid out on a bed, she ran her clammy fingers over each of his pulse points. When she drew her hand away from his wrist, her fingers glistened with blood. They out him out of his outer tunics and found the fabric beneath red, his arms slashed. Cin, being the one to bring the boy in, had stayed to make sure he wasn't dying or some such thing. Now, he grimaced at the sight. It was unusual for a Jedi to allow himself to be flustered to the point of self-mutilation…

"Kenobi should know." He suggested to Bant finally.

The Mon Calamari woman nodded and called to several younger Healers. She would go speak to Obi-Wan personally. Perhaps she could relay this news to him with some measure of tact… She was sure he would be devastated.

He was not expecting her, but he opened the door to greet her. He smiled openly. That made it all the harder for her to deliver her grim news.

"Obi-Wan…" She played nervously with the edge of her tunic. "It's about Anakin. He's…not well."

Obi-Wan looked at her, listening calmly. She wished she had that kind of control. Obi-Wan was such an amazing Jedi… Anakin would be all right under his guidance.

"What has happened?" He asked. The red flags, that should have been waving, lay dormant. He'd taken such caution, why would anyone suspect that he…

"He passed out today." Bant told him slowly. "From blood loss. He's been hurting himself, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's eyes hardened and his face became a bit pale.

"Has he…? I…can I see him now, Bant?" He asked.

"Yes." Bant nodded. She'd known this question would come. "If he's awake, you can."

Obi-Wan tried to smile, but it didn't work out the way he'd planned. He rose and they walked back to the Healer ward together. Bant gripped his shoulder comfortingly, before leaving him alone with Anakin. Ani really was too pale…and Obi-Wan couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed. Well, he had. But, Anakin had wanted it and he'd been all right and they needed this so much! It was them and they were together…until Anakin died, because Obi-Wan was killing him; stripping away his life one perverse layer of skin after another… It was his fault and he didn't know what to say… He just took hold of one of the boy's bandaged hands. Anakin's eyes opened and slid over to him. He smiled, obviously pleased to see him.

"I was hoping you'd come." He told Obi-Wan, squeezing his fingers as much as the stiff dressings would allow.

Obi-Wan once again tried to smile, for Anakin's benefit, but it fell flat, just as it had earlier.

"Of course I did, Padawan." He said, bringing his other hand to envelope the boy's own.

"I really am all right." Anakin tried to sound convincing. "They're all overreacting. It was just a lapse of focus, nothing more."

"No," the Master shook his head. "No, Ani, my love…you aren't." Anakin wasn't all right at all. Obi-Wan was failing him…not giving him what he really needed… He was being selfish and useless.

Anakin frowned and his eyes became cloudy and guarded. If he didn't know his state of health, what made Obi-Wan and these healers think they knew better?

"I'm fine." He tried again, carefully. He had to be fine. For Obi-Wan's sake, he had to be.

"No, you aren't… You're my world, Anakin…and I don't know what would happen it you left it."

Anakin's expression softened to one of his utter helplessly. But if Obi-Wan got skittish about using Anakin…

"What about you?" His face got harder again, and he raised an eyebrow. "You need this as much as I need you. Don't bother denying it, Master. If you didn't, it wouldn't be done."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "You are most important."

"What would you do, if you stopped doing this to me?" Anakin asked him point blank, sitting up to look at him more directly. "What then? Am I to find you bleeding on the floor again? No. That would hurt more."

"You're not an acceptable substitute. You've done nothing wrong, Ani. I have. Many things and this on the list." Even as he said it, he knew it didn't matter. He'd made Anakin his and the boy wanted to stay that way. There was nothing changing his mind… Obi-Wan gave up and cupped his Padawan's jaw. "I won't let it come to this again."

Anakin rested his face against Obi-Wan's shoulder. He was silent for a brief moment, before asking, "What's your plan to avoid it?"

"Sacrifices will have to be made," was all the man said. Even though he saw it as no sacrifice, to keep Anakin alive.

Anakin just sighed and nodded. He'd do whatever Obi-Wan truly wanted, and they both knew it. That meant giving up his instinctive urge to argue.

After leaving the med wing, Anakin felt the full force of the world's 'misunderstanding'. Everyone he encountered cast him odd looks, whereas before they would have let him go unbothered – perhaps even go as far as to ignore him completely. People whose names he couldn't recall approached him to ask how he was… Even Mace Windu made a point of stopping by their quarters to 'check in'. Obi-Wan took it all in good nature, and Anakin wondered how he did it…until he heard Obi-Wan

"What exactly were you expecting?" His Padawan asked him teasingly, climbing into bed with him, upon hearing his grousing. Though, he hadn't been expecting this reaction from the Temple either.

"I expected them to stay out of our quarters." Obi-Wan replied, holding the teen close. "Adi Gallia also has plans to make a 'surprise' visit."

Anakin laughed softly, nuzzling into his shoulder contentedly.

"You're not still expecting the Council to mind their own business, are you?" He wondered, relaxing on top of his Master. "Really, how can they resist the ready-made excuse to pry, of a Padawan displaying 'suicidal behavior'?"

"Yes, really, what _was _I thinking?" Obi-Wan mumbled as sleep descended upon him. Anakin watched him for a moment, before kissing his eyelids affectionately.

"I love you," he whispered, before going to sleep himself.

* * *

_To Be Continued in Part Two..._


	2. Immolation

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

Aubrey's crap: This story was not cut in half. It is, however, a two parter. Please enjoy the last segment.

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A Step Shy  
Part two: Immolation

* * *

The next day, Adi dropped by before the sun had even reached its zenith. Anakin snickered behind his knuckles at the way Obi-Wan greeted her, with such false pleasantness. 

"Yes, hello, Master Gallia. How thoughtful of you to come. Anakin will be pleased to see you, have a seat. I will get the tea, so you can speak with him."

This last part made Ani's amusement disappear. He shot a dirty look after Obi-Wan as he fled into the kitchen. The dark Jedi Mistress sat on the couch, watching him expectantly. Anakin eyed her very reluctantly, before greeting her with obligatory politeness and going to join her on the couch.

"How are you feeling, Padawan?" she inquired, her hands folded politely in her lap. But he could tell they were just itching to inspect his bandages.

"I'm fine." Anakin lied cheerfully, actually forcing up a smile for her benefit. He'd be more fine if he hadn't have come…

"And how long did Mistress Erin say your recovery would take?" Adi asked, her voice still deceptively polite. Anakin was suddenly quite certain she would be dropping some kind of bomb on him very soon.

"Days for the blood to replenish, a few weeks before all the bandages can come off," he told her cautiously, tugging self-consciously at one of his shirtsleeves, under his tunic.

"Wonderful!" She smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was sharp and vaguely foreboding. "You can begin seeing the Soul Healers immediately, then." Anakin actually choked on his own spit with her words.

"Excuse me?" He coughed, raising an eyebrow. So, taking the rap for Obi-Wan had now landed him in therapy? He could pick several very appropriate Huttese words and phrases to describe his lack of enthusiasm about that.

"You have obviously been disturbed, Padawan." She replied. Adi looked up in a flash of blue when Obi-Wan returned. A tacit look between Master and Padawan let Anakin know that Obi-Wan had heard everything. "Obi-Wan, I am sure you are distressed that your Padawan did not feel able to speak with you about his problems."

Obi-Wan gave a noncommittal reply as his brain worked furiously. He had to find a way to fix this…there had to be a way to fix it.

"I…really don't think the situation exactly…warrants Soul healing, Master Gallia," Anakin stammered nervously, now playing with one of the bandages on his hands. He could feel his heart pounding, and he was sure Adi and Obi-Wan could both hear it. "I mean, yeah, there are a…few of them, but none of them were lethal – you can ask Mistress Erin about that. Don't you think therapy might be overkill?"

Adi reached over and touched him. She wrapped long, warm fingers around his bandaged wrists. It did nothing to comfort Anakin's building panic.

"You have hurt – mutilated yourself, Anakin." She stated calmly. "Therapy is not overkill, and I am sure your Master will agree." She peered keenly at Obi-Wan, whose brows were furrowed. He made quite a show of looking pained before he nodded.

"Master Obi-Wan!" Anakin squawked in protest. "It's unnecessary." This was, however, clearly a losing battle that he was fighting.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan answered with care, "the Council has decided. It is a waste of energy to protest further, and of course they know best." Adi nodded in approval.

Anakin scowled at them both, tugging his arms away from Adi and standing up to leave. "It's risky," he warned, his voice barely a hiss, "to send people into my mind." Then he made a truly valiant attempt to flee into the sanctuary of his own bedroom.

Adi seemed appalled by his bad manners, but Obi-Wan managed to convince her that Anakin was still suffering. She nodded at this and bid her goodbyes. Obi-Wan went after Anakin himself, long after Adi Gallia's presence was gone.

* * *

"This is a bad idea, Master." Anakin told him flatly, playing with a random object on his desk. "You know it, and you could have said something. They're going to find out, if they pry enough." 

Obi-Wan made a noise somewhere between a purr and a snarl. "Said something? Such as?"

"Anything!" Anakin gave him a halfhearted glare. "You could have backed me up. Told her we'd worked through it on our own, and didn't need their help."

"Because, of course we know how amiable Adi Gallia is." Obi-Wan shrugged, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"They're going to find out." Anakin warned again, pressed against him. "They're going to find out and take you away from me. What will we do then, Master?"

"They won't take you away," Obi-Wan crooned softly. "I won't let them do that. We'll just have to work together to shield that part of your mind from them."

Anakin tilted his head back and kissed the underside of Obi-Wan's chin. He allowed his lips to trace his Master's fuzzy jaw.

"Yes, Master," he breathed submissively. "Best get to work on that, hm?" He loved the feeling of Obi-Wan touching his mind…almost as much as he loved him touching his body.

Obi-Wan smirked.

* * *

Anakin made his way reluctantly to the Soul Healers', the next day. There were few who required such a specialized brand of healing, so the ward was at a far corner of the Temple that was rarely traversed. When he entered, a towering alien woman with three large, blue eyes greeting him in a gentle, carefully measured tone. 

"Hello, Padawan Skywalker."

"Hi," he eyed her warily. She was acting like he was a time bomb. But, considering where he was, he supposed that wasn't too surprising.

"My name is Malora Aspic." She smiled and plucked a ribbon from her desk to tie up her long, blonde hair. "I know that the process of Soul Healing can be troubling, when you already have so much burden on you, but I hope that with my help your pain will be eased."

"I'm not in any pain." Anakin tried to convince her, sitting down in the nearest chair. He and Obi-Wan had worked on his shield a lot, the night before, but he'd just as soon avoid testing those particular waters.

"It's easier to deny," Malora nodded sympathetically, as she sat down beside him. She had long, delicate fingers. She gently stroked one across his temple, and he shivered involuntarily. "I will not press you farther than you are willing to go. We can work towards your recovery gradually."

Anakin's eyebrows knitted up, and he wished she'd quit touching him. He didn't want anyone but Obi-Wan and his mother to touch him.

"Just please stay out of my head." He requested with a tried sigh. "I'll tell you what you need to know, but I don't want you poking around where you don't belong." Or, he'd tell her a version of what she needed to know.

Her smile was terribly hypnotic. She moved her hands, her eyes blinked, and her head moved in a wary way that was reminiscent of a snake.

"Of course." She chimed. Why didn't he believe her?

"Great…" Anakin slumped down slightly, crossing his arms. "Can we just do this, then? I'd like to not waste the whole day here. I'm sure my Master had some training for me."

"Yes, if you are ready to begin," Malora said with another smile, smaller this time.

"Ask away," he made a gesture of invitation. "I can't answer if you don't ask."

"Why don't you tell me your explanation for the self-mutilation?" Well, this chick went straight to it, didn't she? He had to answer…he'd said he would…

"It's just so…" he paused, and sighed dramatically, stalling as he dug up a viable excuse. "Hard, being the Chosen One. Having the fate of humanity and whatnot as my responsibility. Having everyone's expectations all the time, and not having any power over anything. Haven't you ever wanted control over anything? Haven't you ever wanted it to all…go away?" He offered her his best pitiful look.

She smiled. "Yes, dear Padawan, I have, and I do. That is why I do what I do." This seemed vaguely foreboding to Anakin. "Would you like a drink?" She offered politely. "We are going to be talking for quite a while."

Anakin eyed her suspiciously, before accepting finally. He was strong enough to resist drugs, right? Apparently not, because less than a minute after his first sip of the drink she gave him, he started to feel lightheaded.

"Would you like to elaborate further on your problems, dear one?" Malora invited soothingly.  
Anakin stared at her for a minute, before opening his mouth. Words started flying every which way, despite his brain's highest protests.

"I just want to keep Master Obi-Wan alive…!" He babbled. "He was going to die, like Master Qui-Gon! I just wanted to keep him safe!"

"You still grieve for Qui-Gon?" Mistress Aspic pursued.

"Yes, sometimes," Anakin admitted, wondering what was in that damn water. "I miss my mother more, though. I don't want to lose Master Obi-Wan, like I lost them…"

Malora nodded, as if she understood. Anakin knew she couldn't, though. "Have you talked with your Master about your fear?"

"He knows." Obi-Wan simply had to know. After all, that was the reason Anakin had gotten himself involved with his Master's cutting habit, to begin with. "He knows, he knows, I'm surprised everyone doesn't know…"

"Do you know just why it is that you fear?" Malora continued to venture. "Is it loneliness? Or is it that you have no control…as you said before?" She added this as if she hadn't believed his earlier sob story.

"Both, neither, I don't know!" He burst out and jumped to his feet. He began to pace around the small room as he continued. "I just love him so much… So dependant…I hate being so dependant on anyone! I can't hate him, though!" He seemed to be getting progressively angrier, and bitterer. "Can't lose him…"

Mistress Aspic remained seated and watched him calmly.

"You have a great deal of emotion, and it seems you have not been releasing it properly." She noted, his tone only mildly interested. "You must take the time to just stop and reflect." She saw he was ready to protest and help up a hand, to silence him and continue. "And that is purely in a mental sense. Pace, by all means."

Anakin paused briefly, before nodding and continuing to pace around. At least she wasn't like Yoda. She didn't tell him to sit and meditate through his troubles.

"Can't release emotion here. Not really." He continued to rant. "Can't let anyone find out it's there to begin with!"  
It was then that she stood. She grasped his biceps, and held him very still. Her thin arms were deceptively strong. He felt as if he were staring at a big abyss…but it wasn't one of those metaphorical pits that people fall into when they become abominably depressed. It was an endless white that was promising. He could let it all go there, and it would be contained inside of her…

"You may trust me." She said. "This is my task, and my duty. I will take up your troubles, so you may be clean."  
Anakin looked up at her, feeling somewhat helpless.

"Don't tell anyone what you see." He pleaded quietly with her. "Don't tell them. There's too much darkness, too much fire. Please don't tell."

"Even Master Yoda has his share of darkness and fire," Malora soothed. She reached into him, which disturbed him. What was worse was when she hit one of those walls that he and Obi-Wan had so carefully built the day before. They were connected. She hadn't asked him! She had connected them, and he felt her pain and mental recoil, and her astonishment. For a brief, flaring moment, he knew what she knew. Years of experience with even the most deranged in the galaxy, and no one had stopped her in her tracks before. Her pride, very un-Jedi-like, was wounded.

"You can't go there." Anakin shook his head. "Not there. Even I don't go there. You can't see those memories. Those are mine!" He'd never heard himself sound so viciously defensive before.

But Malora Aspic pressed on. She was a warm creature of light and control. She could control him. She was controlling him. With her song like voice, the hypnotic sway of her head, the rhythmic blink of her eyes, and the drugs… He could feel them, and began to subtly purge them.

"No, no, no…" Anakin whimpered, jerking violently in her hold. "No, please…you can't go there! I told you not to go there! I told you not to poke around where you don't belong, you nosy bitch! Please!" The anger that had built up vanished into despair. Anakin had never fathomed feeling such all consuming terror and sadness all at once. "Please," he repeated, sobbing now. "Those are my memories. They're precious, and dear, and beautiful, and you're going to take them and twist them into something horrible and ugly! Please don't take those from me!"

His voice turned to a high whine when he felt the sharp pain that spread through her head. He had to do something, or she would know. She would break down the walls, and she would see. So, he did the most unpleasant thing he'd ever done. He let down several walls. He held onto Obi-Wan, their memories, but let every else flood her. Everything else. She would drown and be forced to pull back. She would sort through those memories, and she would never know that he'd kept just a few behind…just the important ones. He purged the rest of the drugs from his system, but schooled his features to remain vague and his eyes glassy. Then he whimpered again.

Malora finally released him, a dazed look on her face. "Thank you, Padawan Skywalker. I will do what I can to help you. Please feel free to return to your quarters, perhaps a discussion between you and Master Kenobi will be beneficial."

"Force," he groaned, nodding somewhat. He stopped that quickly, though. It made his head hurt. Swiftly as he could, he fled the small room, before she could notice what he'd done. Though he was already regretting it. It seemed that some of those memories had gotten swept away completely, in the process. He just hoped they were of nothing important. He was so caught up in his inner musing, that he barely noticed when he arrived back at his and Obi-Wan's quarters. Maybe his Master would be home…

* * *

Obi-Wan looked up expectantly, from the couch. There was a lot of weight under that stare. 

"I trust everything has been taken care of now?" He wanted to know.

"No…" Anakin shook his head very slowly. "More than likely not quite. She's quite…good at disassembling shields…and she'll eventually figure out what I did to keep her away from those memories… That won't go over well,  
I don't think…"This obviously irritating his Master.

"I'll just have to do something about that, then." Obi-Wan decided firmly. "You've gone to the Soul Healers; I have at least a marginal chance of convincing Mace that further work is unnecessary now. Since Mistress Aspic did not find any cause for stress of your supposed magnitude…"

"Um…about that…" Anakin cut in. His brilliant plan was now making him feel quite stupid. "See, she wouldn't just let me be, so to try and keep her out of my head, I tried to lie. But then there were the drugs, and I'm really…not sure how effective it was." The boy winced. "She didn't get the memories about you, but she did get…everything else."

"She is the best Soul Healer in the galaxy." Obi-Wan muttered sardonically, his eyebrows creasing into one thin, angry, little line.

"Master," Anakin started forward, sitting down in front of him. "Please, don't do anything stupid? I just put a great deal of effort – and potentially personal sacrifice – into keeping you out of trouble."

"I don't do stupid things, Anakin," the man replied.

"Careful," Ani rephrased, leaning up and kissing him. "Very," he mumbled between further kisses. "Very careful."

Obi-Wan smiled, but it was rather dull and unconvincing. "Of course."

* * *

The next day, Obi-Wan made plans to 'have lunch' with Mace. Anakin was left in their quarters, with nothing better to do than feel anxious. He wasn't allowed to go to classes, because he was still 'recovering', and right now he found that more annoying than anything else. He all but pounced on Obi-Wan, when the man returned. 

"Well?" He wondered, his tone somehow excited and worried all at once.

"We talked, and Mace, in his infinite wisdom, has decided that the Council would rather not strain our bond any further by inserting a third party." Obi-Wan replied, sounding only the least bit smug.

Anakin eyed him, almost unable to believe it, before grinning and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Master," he purred contentedly. "I didn't like having anyone other than you in my mind."

Obi-Wan's expression twisted into a sharp smile, and he pulled Anakin to him by the waist.

"You can always depend on me, Ani. I am your Master." He promised silkily, and that was the end of all trains of though.

Things calmed again, after that adventure. The bandages came off, and eventually the stares that Anakin tended to attract died down. He and Obi-Wan were merely more careful, and no one was any the wiser. But there's no road without rocky patches, and the next one came in the form of a Senator. (Senator Something or Other… Anakin hadn't quite caught the name. Armadillo, or the like.)

She was all smooth, pale skin, bright eyes, and excited tones. All of which seemed as if they were trying to entice them, but Anakin faced them with stoicism. She could flirt all she wanted. Not only was he a Jedi, he belonged to Obi-Wan.  
For some reason, this made his Master inordinately pleased.

Besides, it was their mission to protect the dainty politician, no more. What Anakin couldn't for the life of him figure out, though, was why she was so happy to see them! Mace had said something about Obi-Wan having had dealt with her before, but Anakin couldn't seem to recall seeing the girl before in his life.

Guarding her was a task that seemed simple enough. Jedi were called upon to protect important enough politicians quite often. The mission did not remain simple though. In the end, Anakin was unhappy to discover that he would have to accompany her back to her home world, while Obi-Wan did covert work…

* * *

This assignment was given to Anakin, only to be responded to by much whining. All the protesting in the galaxy couldn't get the reluctant Padawan out of it, though; and despite his finest efforts, he ended up on a freighter, impersonating a refugee, with Amidala, on his way to Naboo. Why did he only get vacations when he didn't want them? On the other hand, 'why was Padmé touching him?' seemed to be a better question. Why was she putting a companionable hand on his shoulder? Were all of the Naboo this touchy? He hoped not. That sent him spiraling into longing thoughts of Obi-Wan, and he drew away from the Senator uncomfortably. She seemed rather bewildered about that. But he couldn't fathom why she seemed so convinced that he should be as fond of her as she was, apparently, of him. 

The more time he spent with her, the more reasons he found not to like her, anyway. She had quite a mouth, she said what she thought and she was forceful with what she said. Her smooth appearance was deceptive of her abrasive tongue, and sharp eyes. Anakin thought of Obi-Wan again and nearly contacted him out of desperation.

"Could you please stop that?" He half begged finally, giving her a pleadingly exasperated look. He was half a step away from catching her wandering fingers, or clamping a hand over her jabbering mouth. She was touching him again, and they hadn't even gotten off the damn freighter! They were close…tantalizingly close. They only had about a day left in those stupidly cramped quarters, but at the rate they were going he was going to kill one of them before they arrived.  
Padmé gave him a strange and pouting look, but she stopped for the time being. As soon as they were at her estate, she started up again…which made Anakin want to just leave her there.

"Please, Senator," he caught her delicate hands a bit more roughly than he'd intended, shoving them back toward her nervously. "I don't know what you expect from me, but I'm sure it's entirely inappropriate on every level!"  
Padmé gave him an embarrassed look and dropped her hands. "I'm sorry, Ani," she murmured. What? Why had she just gone from 'I'm about to eat you alive' to meek little kitten? He offered her a bemused look, but decided to focus on one mind-boggling element of her apology at a time.

"Master Obi-Wan never called me that in front of you," he addressed his nickname first. She'd called him that before too, now that he thought about it. (He'd thought her insane at that point, as well.) "He's the only one who does."  
Amidala blushed deeply. "I'm sorry," she said again. She excused herself quickly, and Anakin was hoping that would be the end of that.

Ani let out a low sigh and decided to excuse himself as well. He headed off to bed, praying that maybe tomorrow she would keep her hands to herself.

Unfortunately, the night was not as pleasant as he'd anticipated. His dreams had started out very nice, but then it had swiftly transformed into a nightmare of epically bloody proportions. So, he spent most of the night outside, staring out over the lake, until Padmé finally came out to bug him some more. Did that woman ever give it a rest? He didn't look at her, but she laid a cautious hand on his arm anyway.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Fuckin' peachy." He muttered sarcastically. He still didn't look at her, though. Maybe if he stat really still, she'd get bored and go away.

Padmé stroked his arm, which made him tense up. "Ani… Anakin, what's wrong? Please talk to me?"

Finally, he shifted. He narrowed his eyes at her, and jerked away from her grasp.

"What do you care?" He demanded snappishly. "Why do you always care so much? I don't even know you!"

"I just…" she started, looking meek for another moment, before her features hardened. "When Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan helped me…I just felt so close to you. I cared about you, and I thought…you cared about me as well."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He informed her plainly. "I've never seen you before this mission – never heard of you. Master Obi-Wan had to give me a detailed briefing on your political history, so I wouldn't make a total ass of myself. He didn't mention, though, that you sideline as a whore. But you must, as you can't seem to keep your hands off of men who are less available than monks, for two damn seconds!" His nightmares had made him extremely testy. He was worried about Obi-Wan now!

This time, Amidala's flush was angry. She drew her hand back with a jerk. He thought she might try to smack him, and he simply wasn't in the mood.

"Yes. Apparently I was not important at all. I apparently flattered myself, thinking you would remember after ten years. Even though it was me that you cried on, after Master Jinn's funeral!"

Anakin groaned aloud, and let his head fall back in frustration. This was going to make his mission suffer… Fuck, now he had to apologize to the silly girl.

"Listen, Senator," he sighed in a forcedly polite tone. "I'm sorry. That was out of line, but… Really. You must be remembering someone else." He looked back at her tiredly. "I've been a Jedi, with Master Obi-Wan, for as long as I can remember, and I'd…remember you." He looked away from her again. Women made everything difficult. It was a pretty good incentive to keep his eyes trained on men, even if he weren't in love with Obi-Wan – which he very much was, mind. "Please, don't take this the wrong way? You're a very…lovely girl, Senator, but even if the Jedi code didn't forbid it, I could never be with you…like that. Not for years now." He looked back to her, feeling earnest and apologetic now.

Her eyes narrowed. "Remembering some other Anakin Skywalker that I helped rescue off of Tatooine?" She inquired.

"Tatooine?" His attitude turned to confusion. "Why would I have been on Tatooine?" Something wasn't quite meshing…it was time to put his deductive skills to use, and find out what.

"Because you were born there, and lived there with your mother." Padmé hissed. "How could you try acting as if you don't know? Have you forgotten about her as well?" She was this close to hitting him, and calling him an insensitive brat.

Anakin scowled at her. How stupid did she think he was, to fall for such a lame lie?

"I don't – " He started, but then he stopped suddenly. Something jumped to the forefront of his mind. "Oh…shit…"  
He mumbled, recalling the unfortunate run-in with Mistress Aspic, and recoiling a little.

Padmé huffed and turned on heel, to leave him there. She didn't have to take this!

"Senator Amidala," Anakin called after her bemusedly. She had a very short fuse, for someone who was apparently so close to him. "I think I might know what's going on, if you actually care."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder impatiently. "What?" She snapped.

"I had a…medical accident, for lack of a better term, a few years ago…" He explained, examining the ground uncomfortably. "Force therapy gone awry, or whatever… Anyway, point is that I was required to do something that normally wouldn't have been done, and lost a lot of memories in the process."

Padmé didn't really seem to believe him, but she didn't call him on it.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said in a much softer voice, before she continued on her way back to her bedroom.  
Anakin watched after her voice a long moment, before turning back to the moon-glossed lake. Morning would come soon enough… In the meantime, he had that many more hours to figure out what he could do to help Obi-Wan, and still fulfill his mission to protect Padmé.

* * *

The next morning, at breakfast, Anakin dropped a veritable bomb on her. 

"Senator, I believe my Master is in grave danger, and I must ask your leave to go rescue him." He wasn't really asking, and he didn't really give her a chance to say no. He just stood up and left the room, to go gather his few possessions together, and head to Theed so that he could get a ship and leave. He left her gaping after him, as he exited the dining hall, and he half expected her to follow him and protest. But she was too stunned and too annoyed. He left and began the difficult process of actually finding Obi-Wan.

* * *

He had been following the Force signature for about a day, before he caught a distress signal. It was Obi-Wan. Anakin thanked the Force he'd listened to his feelings. He sent the call to the Temple, and sped the ship along to Geonosis.  
Once breaching the atmosphere of Geonosis, finding out who was behind his Master's apparent danger wasn't difficult. There were Trade Federation ships everywhere. But whether Obi-Wan was captured or merely stranded, Anakin couldn't tell yet. He continued on his way toward where he felt Obi-Wan's energy strongest in the Force, but there was nowhere safe to land his fighter, near the building. He had to journey farther away again. Upon landing in an exhaust vent, the quickest way back to (what he could only assume was) the headquarters was right through the Geonosian droid foundries. He just failed to factor in, while constructing his brilliant plot, that one could get arrested for breaking into a place like that. 

That was how he ended up chained to a pole, in a gladiatorial execution ring, less than two hours later. But…at least he knew where Obi-Wan was now, he sighed to himself as his Master was brought into the ring, shortly after he was. Obi-Wan looked really annoyed. That didn't seem to bode well for anyone.

He was unhappy that Obi-Wan was angry with him, but there was nothing they could do about it right now. Right now they needed to concentrate on escaping.

Anakin once again thanked the Force. He'd had the foresight to send the distress signal back to Coruscant. Maybe the Council would send someone to save them. He put this suggestion up to his Master.

"Yes, they can come pick up our corpses, Anakin," the man grumbled, his body coiling, ready to dodge one of the great creatures.

"Well, you'd be in a lot better position, if I'd left you here dead, to stay with Senator Can't Keep Her Hands to Herself, wouldn't you?" His Padawan half snarled back, ducking swiftly as a large, three-horned beast charged at him. Though, in retrospect, fleeing up may have been wiser than fleeing down, the blonde groused to himself, as he worked hard to scramble out from under the thing's heavy feet and onto its back.

He really didn't hear Obi-Wan's hiss of pained disdain, but he certainly felt it. Well, this was a great way to die. Fighting. Not just with big, heavy monsters, but also with each other. He didn't want to die fighting with the love of his life. Cursing, Anakin realized his next blunder as he almost slipped off the beast again. By the time he had a sturdy seat on it, there were blaster bolts coming from every direction. Anakin groaned aloud. Could this get any worse?

Yes, apparently, for before Anakin had another moment to think, Mace Windu hurdled down from above, his cloak smoking from being set aflame by a blaster bolt, care of the bounty hunter Jango Fett. Bemused, Anakin blinked as he rigged a harness for his monster, with his chair. Momentarily, more Jedi began to stream in… Then Yoda showed up with a few thousand clones. Well, when the Jedi said they were sending back up, they didn't take that promise lightly.  
When the beasts were slain, Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to come with him. They had to stop Dooku, yet.

* * *

The doddering old bastard had tried to escape, but the Jedi continued after him. They were no contest for his skills, though, and all Yoda found was the disastrous aftermath, in the end. Dooku had spared the pair, most likely to honor a somewhat bemusing memory of Qui-Gon. 

They were awake, when the old Master arrived, but he suspected it was a near thing. Anakin seemed ridiculously concerned with Obi-Wan's well being, considering the older man had only sustained burns, whereas the Padawan had lost the better part of a crucial limb to the fight.

"Are you alright?" Ani asked his Master hushedly, pushing himself closer still to Obi-Wan, with his feet.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said tersely, and then he tried to reach for Anakin and failed. "What about you, Padawan?" He watched the boy sway dizzily from shock. He wanted to get up and help him, but found himself unable to do any such thing.

"Great, okay, fantastic," Anakin listed, getting close enough to press a kiss to one of Obi-Wan's injuries. He seemed completely oblivious to Yoda's presence. "It only hurts worse than it looks, I'm fine." He babbled off deliriously.

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long, painful moment, before Yoda finally intervened. He looked over them himself, and summoned help. Then he used the Force to send them both off into blissful sleep.

* * *

Anakin was not permitted to wake again for several days, while surgery was done on his arm that he had lost. Obi-Wan would have sat at his bedside, if he had been able, but the fussy Healers confined him to a bed. At least they did take some pity on the poor man, though, and when Anakin was stabilized, they put his apprentice in a separate bed, in the same room. 

When Anakin finally woke, he examined his shiny, new prosthesis with mute interest, before looking over at Obi-Wan with a wane, concerned smile.

"Are you alright?" He repeated, pushing his body up, to get a better look at his Master.

"Fine." Obi-Wan waved it off. He said nothing more for a long time, because he refused to carry on like a lovesick puppy dog. "I've heard the Healers' reports on you. You should be up soon."

"Good." Anakin laughed a little, inching slowly to the edge of his bed with the intention to climb out. If Obi-Wan was okay, Anakin wanted to be by his side right away. "It's silly to think that losing a hand will take away my ability to control my feet."

"Your body has been sorely taxed." Obi-Wan replied, in his most dull 'Master' voice.

"I'm okay now." The boy promised him, still creeping out of his bed. It was as though he were under the rather absurd impression that moving slowly would keep Obi-Wan from noticing. "Really, taxing it's nothing new."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Stay in that bed," he ordered. "The Healers will release both of us soon. I have already spoken with the Council, so don't worry about that."

"I miss being held by you." Anakin complained, offering Obi-Wan his best pouty-frown. "You don't know what it was like, being with that girl, Master. I thought I'd choke on her cooties." This was clearly teasing. Then Anakin's tone became soberer again. "I had a vision about you." He admitted softly. "I thought you were dead."

"Have more faith in me." Obi-Wan murmured, sinking back into his pillows. "It will take much more than that to rip me from your side."

Despite his assurances and protests, Anakin still climbed out of his bed and into Obi-Wan's.

"If I hadn't come, and contacted the Council, you'd be bug squash, Master." He remarked dryly.

"Shut up, boy," Kenobi replied, letting his eyes droop closed.

"I would be too," Anakin murmured, lying down pressed close to him. "I think if you'd died, I'd be entirely forced to kill myself. Speaking of which…" he moved his flesh hand up, and stroked Obi-Wan's cheek tenderly. "I'm sure, Master, that after this…horrible ordeal, you'll want some…distraction…won't you?"

"Not now, Ani," Obi-Wan said under his breath. "Not here." He reached deliberately for the steel hand. The implication of 'not ever' hung heavily on the air.

"Please, Master," Anakin ground out, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. "Please. No one will even have to know – just you and me, like it's supposed to be…" Those moments were so precious to him…so special…

"No." Obi-Wan yawned.

"W-why not?" Anakin tried to offer him a pitiful look, wrapping his good arm around Obi-Wan's neck. He wasn't sure how to make the prosthetic function, yet. That would take months of physical therapy to master. "Why is it you only refuse me when I really need you to? You want this as much as I do – I'm sure of it."

"Don't make me repeat myself." The Master snapped.

"I don't want you to repeat yourself." Ani's expression melted into a scowl. "I want you to explain yourself."

"Don't question your Master," Obi-Wan was giving him a cagey grin now. "I said 'no', that is all there is to it."

"You didn't answer my other question." Anakin reminded him, breathing into his shoulder. "Why is it that you pick now to refuse me? Now, when I ask more than offer?"

"Because you're injured. Now shut up, and let me sleep." Obi-Wan answered flatly, shifting until he could roll onto his side.

Anakin let out a growl, half an inch from biting the tender flesh of Obi-Wan's neck, where his lips rested.

"I am not," he muttered defiantly, "injured. For all you know, this thing might be the best sex toy you've ever had access to! Ever been fondled by a droid, Master? It's quite the experience, I promise."

Obi-Wan twitched.

"No." He snarked. "Now, get off before someone sees."

Anakin's tongue darted out and licked Obi-Wan's neck tantalizingly, before he sat up.

"I don't care if they see." Hr muttered, as he climbed out of the bed and back into his own. Obi-Wan didn't answer him.

* * *

The argument lasted for weeks…and weeks…and weeks. Obi-Wan kept saying no, and Anakin kept pushing, and 

Obi-Wan kept saying no.

"Master," Anakin whined, even as they made their way to the Healers' ward, for his physical therapy.

"No," Obi-Wan snapped, he then left the kid there.

"This is getting ridiculous!" Anakin called after him.

* * *

Obi-Wan continued to refuse him. For almost a year, before his resolve broke. It started slowly, and worked its way to being quite frequent again. 

Now, during the Clone Wars, it continues.

A shiver passes down Anakin's spine, but he doesn't look at Obi-Wan. He knows – they both know – how much they both need this bizarre intimacy. A battlefield is no place for lovemaking…this is close enough.

* * *

"I chose this life. I know what I'm doing. And any given day, I could stop doing it. Today, however, isn't that day. And tomorrow won't be either."  
Bruce Wayne (Identity Crisis) 

_"…I'm hooked on you  
I need a fix, I can't take it  
Just one more hit  
I promise, I can deal with it  
I'll handle the quitting  
Just one more time in  
That's it, just a little more  
To get me through this…"  
Addicted (Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway)_


End file.
